Remembering the soft smile Brie had given him when she had awakened, Dominic mentally flogged himself. Her smile had been a priceless jewel, one that had taken his breath away with its quiet brilliance. Afterwards he had found it impossible to concentrate on reports. All he wanted to do was climb back in bed and gather Brie's warm body in his arms.
But then Jacques had delivered the map. Dominic, in spite of his knowledge of women, had not understood Brie's anger and embarrassment. He had mocked her when he should have soothed. He now greatly regretted teasing her like that, almost as much as he regretted his subsequent outburst. Damn it, but he would be glad when this business was finished and he knew the truth about her. The uncertainty was driving him mad.
Brie sighed then, reflecting Dominic's thoughts. Hearing the unhappiness in the soft sound, he watched as she stood and walked to the window. She stared out at the storm for several minutes, then began to pace quietly, while Dominic followed her with his gaze.
Admiring her gently swinging hips, he found himself picturing Brie as she had been the night before, without the elegant bronze silk gown, without the severe upswept hair style—but with her flaming hair streaming wildly over her shoulders, her head thrown back in ecstasy.
How her passion had delighted him! He had sometimes deplored Brie's aggressiveness for being far too masculine, but the previous evening her boldness had pleased him beyond rational thought. Dominic's eyes glinted as he recalled the hungry way she had touched him, had tasted him. She needed no urging from him to make love the way most well-bred woman would find scandalous. He could feel his groin muscles tightening at the mere memory.
Just when he felt he could no longer resist the lure of those shapely curves, though, Brie went to her trunk. Seeing her withdraw a cloak, he was surprised into asking what she meant to do.
Brie stiffened and lifted her chin. "I am going for a walk, if you don't object."
Dominic forced back a smile; Brie's portrayal of the haughty beauty was unequalled. "I'm afraid I must object," he replied, struck now by an irrational whim to keep her near him. "It's raining outside—or hadn't you noticed?"
"Of course I noticed. But I have been in worse weather."
"I'm not disputing your ability to withstand the elements, but the fact is, Jacques can't be spared to escort you at the moment and I personally have no desire to brave the storm." He paused, raising an eyebrow quizzically. "Would you have me accuse you of going to meet someone?"
Brie left off tying the strings of her cloak to stare incredulously at him. "Just who am I supposed to meet?" she asked finally. "A lover, perhaps? Or your nameless enemies, or maybe even my grandfather? Your imagination astounds me!"
Seeing Dominic's unchanging expression, Brie threw up her hands. "Very well! Just to prove to you that there is no meeting, I will sit here and quietly go mad from boredom!" The low rumble in Dominic's throat sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, and it made Brie bristle. "I am serious, Dominic! I shall go distracted any minute now."
"Can you not sew or embroider or—"
"Is that how you think I occupy my time, embroidery?"
This time Dominic didn't hide his laughter. "Nothing so mundane or feminine as stitching for you, little wildcat, is that it?" Still chuckling, he rose and went to his trunk. Brie watched him warily, but Dominic only fished out a leather- bound volume and held it out to her. "You do read, do you not?"
Brie accepted his offering, arching an eyebrow when she saw the title. "Richard III? I didn't think your tastes ran to Shakespeare."
"I enjoy many things, chérie," he said with a grin. He tugged at the ribbons of her cloak, but when he slid the garment from her shoulders, Brie spun away and settled herself on the rug before the fire. She lay on her side, her head propped up with one hand and her feet tucked under her skirts. Watching her, Dominic couldn't help but smile. She was forever unconventional; never would she do the expected. He went back to his work, giving Brie only an occasional glance as he made his plans.
Some time later a discreet knock at the door brought an end to their quiet interlude. Remembering the contretemps of that morning, Dominic went to the door, giving Brie time to adjust her undignified position and smooth her skirts before a maidservant entered with a luncheon tray. The girl spread the dishes on the table and departed with a curtsy, leaving Brie and Dominic to enjoy a savory stew and a bottle of the inn's finest wine.
They ate in silence, a silence Brie felt acutely after the past few days of lively conversation and laughter. At the conclusion of the meal, she carefully set down her fork and launched into the apology she had formulated. "Dominic, I am sorry for what I said this morning. I didn't mean it . . . about killing you. I . . . I suppose I overreacted. Katherine has always said my greatest failing is my temper."
When she wouldn't look at him, Dominic reached out and gently grasped her chin. His eyes were warm and teasing again as they scanned her face. "No matter, vixen. The pleasure you bring me is enough to make me overlook your occasional tantrums."
Brie's eyes flashed at his provoking remark, but she held her temper in check as she twisted her chin from his grasp. "You can be so kind one moment, and yet such a beast the next."
Dominic leaned back in his chair, his expression suddenly hooded. "I never claimed to be kind, Brie. If I am, it is merely because of our agreement."
"I know," she said, looking away.
Feeling more despondent than ever, she rose and went to the window. The rain had almost stopped, but the world outside was still sodden and gray. It looked precisely the way her heart felt: miserable. Dominic wasn't coming to care for her. By his own admission, his cordiality was only a means to his own end—only a way of making the time spent in her company more bearable.
"Brie, come here." When she heard his soft command, she tried not to respond, but then his voice dropped to a caress and he said her name again. Slowly, Brie turned and went to him.
He was startled by the sadness in her eyes. Wanting very much to erase that look, Dominic curved an arm around her waist and gently pulled her down onto his lap. Tilting her face up to his, he stroked the delicate line of her jaw for a moment, then bent his head and kissed her.
His lips were soft and warm at first, moving over hers with tender possession. But then his tongue began alternately to caress and plunder.
Brie responded with an awakening hunger, raising her hands to his shoulders, involuntarily curling her fingers into his hard muscles. Her tongue warred with his, dueling, caressing in return. When his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, she felt a treacherous heat begin to build inside her. Dominic's thighs were like flexing granite beneath her, and the feel of his probing hardness through their layers of clothes aroused and excited her.
When his lips left hers to slide hotly across her cheek to her ear, Brie shuddered as a tremulous wave of longing racked her body. She made no protest as Dominic deftly unfastened the buttons at the back of her high-necked gown. He pushed the fabric from her shoulders, freeing her breasts from the confines of her chemise, then bent his head once more.
"Dominic!" Brie gasped as his mouth closed over her nipple. But as a sweeping wave of desire flooded her, she arched her back, shamelessly offering herself to him.
Dominic greedily accepted her offering. He savored the sweetness of her flesh, his tongue curling over the desire- swollen peaks, his teeth nipping at her with gentle fierceness. Brie was aching with need even before his hand found its way beneath her skirts, gliding past silk stockings and lacy garters to stroke a slender satin thigh, then beyond to the recesses of her femininity, already hot and wet with welcome.
Brie whimpered, her body straining against his, begging for release. But Dominic only nuzzled his face deeper into the satin hollow between her breasts, while his fingers continued expertly plying the softness between her thighs.
Finally Brie could stand no more. Her hands fumbled feverishly with the buttons of his breeches, until at last his sex sprang huge and proud f
rom a nest of dark, curling hair. When Brie's fingers closed around him, Dominic sucked in his breath. "God . . . you little witch."
Feeling his control begin to slip, he raised her gown to her waist with savage impatience, baring her fully. Then grasping her hips, Dominic lifted Brie to settle her astride him, onto his powerful shaft. He closed his eyes and groaned as he was sheathed in rippling velvet.
He might have proceeded slowly if Brie hadn't begun to move her hips in a desperate attempt to assuage the aching need he had created in her. Losing all control then, Dominic closed his hands over her buttocks, lifting her up only to bring her down again, and then again, thrusting himself even more deeply inside her each time, his hardness impaling her soft flesh.
Brie loved his fierceness. Sobbing, she threw her head back, mindlessly digging her nails into his muscled back as his body slammed upwards into hers. She felt him shaking and throbbing inside her as she cried out his name. And then came the blinding explosion, an intense burst of pleasure that sent sweet shocks flooding through her and Dominic, as well.
When it was over, Brie collapsed on his chest in breathless exhaustion, her arms still wrapped around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.
His own breath coming in ragged gasps, Dominic let his head fall back. "I suppose that is one way to end a quarrel," he said with a weak laugh.
"Mmmm."
His hand moved caressingly over her bare shoulders, then upward to stroke her hair. "We shouldn't talk, ma belle. Our bodies say everything that needs to be said."
When she only responded with a feeble nod, Dominic shifted so he could study her face. Her lips were red and glistening and bruised with passion, and her skin was flushed with color. When Brie slowly opened her eyes, Dominic could see they were a deep, languorous green. There was no reproach in those lovely changing eyes, he realized with pleasure. Their coupling had been pure animal lust, but she had wanted it as much as he.
Even as he came to that conclusion, Dominic felt a new quickening in his loins and shook his head in amazement. Damn, but it was impossible! His desire was starting again. Could he never get enough of her to be satisfied?
He rose with Brie in his arms and carried her to the bed. Then wordlessly he undressed her, taking his time, not bothering to disguise his admiration of her body as he removed his own clothes.
Feeling his eyes move over her with lazy ownership, Brie flushed. But she was less embarrassed by Dominic's casualness than by her own desire to reach out and run her hands over his magnificent, sun-darkened body.
"What must you think of me?" she said ruefully when she was once again lying in Dominic's arms, her head on his chest. "I may have been rash before, but I've never been abandoned."
Dominic smiled as he removed the pins from her hair and tossed them, one by one, somewhere in the vicinity of their pile of cast-off clothing. "Ah, yes, abandoned, wanton, depraved. . . ."
"Indeed, I am not!" Brie raised herself up on one elbow to glare at him, before seeing the laughter dancing in his gray eyes. "No more so than you, at any rate," she said, wrinkling her nose at him. When Dominic flashed her a grin, she trailed a finger down his well-muscled chest. "Beware, my lord, or I shall demand payment for my favors."
Dominic sighed heavily. "Then I should be a poor man, chérie. All the gold in the kingdom would not be sufficient payment for one sweet kiss from your lips."
"Very prettily said. But I think I should like you to be poor, Dominic. Perhaps then you would not be so arrogant and beastly."
Dominic laughed, tightening his arm around her. "'Tis not my wealth or lack of it that makes me so."
"No? Then what is it?"
Rolling till she lay beneath him, Dominic stared down into her wide eyes. "You, wench," he said soberly. "You are much too desirable for my peace of mind," He bent briefly to kiss a rosy-tipped breast, then raised his head. "What to do with you?" he asked softly, searching her face as if to find an answer to his problem.
Brie's answer was a mere whisper. "Love me, Dominic, just love me."
His eyes darkened slumbrously. And for a moment, before his mouth descended on hers, before his body merged with hers, Brie believed that the tenderness in his eyes was something more than desire. Dominic's heart belonged to her, if only for a moment.
The moment did not occur again. Brie had no further reason to suppose that Dominic's heart could be touched. And at least on one occasion before their destination was reached, their truce was threatened.
They were riding in the coach one afternoon, discussing the foibles of London society, when Dominic made a particularly cynical comment about women.
Brie stared at him with dawning comprehension. "I think I am beginning to understand you, my lord," she said slowly. "You hold my entire sex in contempt. Women are only useful to you for physical pleasure. Other than that, they need not exist at all. But I suppose I should be comforted to realize you hate all women."
"I don't hate all women," Dominic returned, his features hardening.
"No? It isn't only I who has suffered your ill will. You dislike my cousin Caroline, and you believe the worst of my mother. Why even your own mother—Julian says you haven't spoken to her in years."
"That is quite enough, Brie. I don't deny that I have little regard for females in general, but you know nothing of my mother."
"I know she deserted your father when you were quite young." "Congratulations."
Brie ignored his sarcasm. "I suppose since you never had the comfort of a mother's knee, you never learned to appreciate a woman's love."
Dominic shrugged. "What is there to appreciate?"
"I might have expected you to say that. You could live to be a hundred and never understand that particular emotion."
He raised a sardonic eyebrow. "And you are such an expert on the subject?"
Brie looked startled. "No, but—"
"Love is a maze that only fools enter willingly. By the time they find their way out—which inevitably happens—they find themselves trapped in a marriage contract, which only serves to perpetuate the race and begin the cycle again."
"I could almost pity you, Dominic, except that you would throw it back in my face."
"How right you are. Now if you are quite finished—"
"I suppose you think women are at the root of all this evil. Tell me, is it the male character which inspires your trust? Are men, in your opinion, the only ones deserving your high regard?"
His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you attempting to reform me, Brie?"
"That would be impossible!"
For a moment they glared at each other. But then Dominic leaned back in his seat, looking amused. "There, we have found another topic on which we agree. Incidentally, I seem to recall a number of instances where you have flaunted convention. Your breeches, for instance."
"We were discussing you," Brie retorted.
"No, you were discussing me. I was trying to change the subject."
"You are confusing the issue! Conventions have nothing to whatever do with character. And why must you bring my breeches into the conversation? You are mocking me again, Dominic. I thought we had a bargain."
His lips curved into a slow smile, while glowing lights began to dance in his eyes. "Ah, yes, our bargain. Shall I give you an opportunity to fulfill your part, chérie?"
Brie glanced at him in puzzlement when he reached up to draw the curtains across the windows, but she had no trouble comprehending Dominic's purpose when he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and lifted her onto his lap.
"But, Dominic—" she protested halfheartedly as he started to unfasten the buttons of her spencer.
"We won't be disturbed," he assured her before silencing her protests with his lips.
Two mornings later their truce dissolved completely. Brie woke feeling apprehensive, knowing that the day would see them at their journey's end. Already they had penetrated deep into the wine country, having passed through Chalon the day before and turned south toward Lyon.
Brie opened her eyes slowly. The faint gray light filtering into the bedroom promised little in the way of warmth and only served to increase her foreboding. Lifting her head, she peered down at Dominic. She was surprised to see that he was awake. He was lying with one arm flung across his forehead as he stared at the ceiling.
Sensing his withdrawal, Brie felt an inexplicable chill run up her spine. Dominic's gray eyes were arctic, holding no trace of the warmth that had been present the past few days. His expression seemed so forbidding that she edged away from him a little.
"Is it far?" she ventured at last.
"Far?"
"To your home."
"A half-day's ride, no more. Dress warmly. I expect it to rain."
His expressionless tone reminded Brie of icicles in winter, and her heart sank. The wall was between them again. She could almost see it. Her fingers plucked nervously at the blanket. "And when we arrive? What do you intend to do?"
Dominic turned his head to look at her, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face. "That remains to be seen."
Brie's gaze slid away from his. "You still don't trust me. I-I had hoped. . . ."
"What had you hoped? That I would dismiss the possibility of your past involvement? You have a very poor opinion of me, chérie, if you think I so easily confuse business and pleasure. Although I admit it has been a pleasure." He reached over to stroke her cheek, but Brie recoiled in pain and anger.
"Don't touch me!" she cried, leaping from the bed. "Don't you dare touch me." Catching up her wrapper, she threw it about her shoulders. "This 'business' cannot be concluded too rapidly for my taste. A truce, you say. But only so long as it serves your purpose. Well, it appears that I have served your purpose long enough. You can damned well seek your pleasures elsewhere!"
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